


to all the boys i've loved before

by cathedralhearts



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathedralhearts/pseuds/cathedralhearts
Summary: The letters are out.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 268





	to all the boys i've loved before

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this is crack on crack on crack, but it was so much fun to write. Timelines are kind of messed up a bit, I think, sorry about that. I wanted this to be so much more ~whimsical~ like the movie but love letters getting out at 27 is probably a lot less cute and a lot more world ending than at 16, so. 
> 
> Huge thanks to @sparken_rose for the beta, you absolute champion.

_“Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humour,_

_giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible.”_

_\- Lisa Kleypas_

Buck gets home from a double shift, beyond exhausted and barely moving. They attended three huge fires and one of them involved kids, and he feels wrung out and strung out, shaking a little from the adrenaline wearing off. He needs a shower, a huge steak and to sleep for fifteen hours. Not necessarily in that order, but definitely soon.

Yawning, he drops his work bag on the floor, kicking off his sneakers and looking at his mail pile. His cleaner Delores had placed them there, whom he only hired under protest from Maddie when she came over and found some questionable leftovers, and a takeout container that got lodged behind his couch and was growing something that Buck could have entered into Chris’ science competition-- and probably won.

The first few things aren’t that exciting like his utility bill, a reminder from his gym about the head coach entering American Ninja and to come along to the taping, and then… and then it feels like his entire world falls out from underneath him.

He’s making a noise that sounds like a cat has been stepped on, but the teal envelope sitting there on his counter is impossible. It’s an impossible conundrum, something that should not exist in this space, with processing stamps from USPS all over it, redirected from Abby’s address. That letter belongs in the shaving case under his bed, with the others… because of course there’s others.

“You don’t exist,” Buck whispers, shutting his eyes and then peeking from under his lashes-- and groaning, of course it’s still there.

Because _of course_ a letter Buck wrote two years ago, addressed to Abby, is still sitting on his counter since it’s somehow been sent. There’s no way he got drunk enough to send the letters. He’s self-sabotaging to an extent but that… that’s on such another level he doesn’t even know where to begin.

Walking as if he’s in a dream, he heads upstairs and drops to the ground, peering under his bed. No shaving case. He sits up and there it is, on his bedside table, blissfully open and horrifically, completely empty.

Buck’s not ashamed -- well, he is _extremely_ ashamed -- but he’s not ashamed to say he lies on the floor and cries himself to sleep. Being conscious and realising what’s happened is not something he can deal with right now, and drinking himself stupid will result in a lot of things happening that he doesn’t -- and can’t -- process right now.

*

There were six letters. Six letters that Buck had written across various years, ending with his arrival in LA.

The first letter he wrote was to a high school crush, Jimena, but he didn’t know her address so he’d made one up. Jimena was beautiful-- caramel skin and deep brown eyes, legs for days. She was his first love, the one who really got him to figure out how to put his feelings into words. Her older brother was in a gang and scared the hell out of Buck, so he never got to admit how he felt, but he still remembers seeing her in Bio, sitting behind her, smelling the vanilla of her moisturiser and memorising every smile she threw his way.

The second was to a guy he’d met in Tijuana during his stint there, Alberto, and that one was addressed to the bar he’d been working at, because the times they fell into bed together it’d been after his shift ended, and maybe Buck wasn’t as good at remembering things during that period as he’d convinced everyone else he was. Alberto had impossibly long legs and dyed his hair a different colour each week-- the first time they’d slept together, his hair was bright red. Alberto also had a raging coke habit and while Buck hadn’t indulged in that, he had smoked a lot of weed and drank way too much, so most of his love letter to Alberto revolved around how he felt inside of Buck, and what he smelled like as the sun rose.

Letters three and four were to twin sisters in Miami -- they were definitely getting received, because Buck started remembering addresses on then. He wasn’t super bothered about those because he hadn’t written a return address on the back… no, that came with letters five and six.

Letter five was to Shaun, his last ex, and the worst one. Letter five was written during a three day crying bender, after Shaun left him for the fourth time as he finished up in Miami, and moved to Ohio with his personal trainer because that’s a thing that happens. Buck hadn’t really had his heart broken until the two years he suffered with Shaun, and he regrets every word he penned to paper. The biggest regret is that it’s going to arrive in his letter box and Shaun’s going to think Buck is still that hot mess, and while Buck is working on a lot of his new trauma, he has definitely moved past that one.

Letter six was the most recent, and also really fucking bad if he’s honest, because it’s to Eddie. Not that it’s a surprise to anyone-- probably not even Eddie, as thick as he is when it comes to love and emotions and expressing himself in any way that doesn’t involve punching or being a brick wall. He knows he can get to Eddie’s first, save the letter and save their friendship, but the more he thinks about it the more upset he is over Shaun’s letter.

He hadn’t intended to pass out on his floor from hysterically sobbing, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles. He knows Eddie checks his mail at night, so he gets up off the floor, sore down to his bones, because apparently his rapidly aging body prefers his tempurpedic mattress and memory foam pillows as opposed to his floor. He showers and shovels down some breakfast, and checks his phone.

Bobby had messaged while he was in the shower, asking if he could cover Castillo and come in today-- Buck says yes, because he knows staying at home and thinking about all of the ways his life is about to implode is totally not what he’s here for.

_On my way boss_

*

Buck paces back and forth in the kitchen, muttering to himself. That in itself would normally be enough to cause slight concern, but the crumpled paper in his hand and the fact that he looks like he hasn’t slept for three days is probably the more pressing issue at hand.

“Buck?” Hen asks softly, approaching first. Buck looks around and sees his crew standing there, like he’s a wild animal they’re trying not to spook.

“Hi guys,” he says, halting the pacing and clenching the paper tighter in his hand. Bobby coughs, very obviously not trying to remember the number of the employee assistance program if Buck is indeed suffering some sort of mental breakdown.

_He wishes it was that simple, god damnit._

“Uh, what’s going on, Buckaroo?” Hen asks, as Chim slides around her to get to the bagels. Eddie’s nowhere to be seen, which means he’s probably still getting ready-- good. He needs a moment to collect himself.

“Nothing,” Buck says and shoves the paper in his pocket. Now isn’t the time for him to be focusing on some potentially life destroying situations, and how he definitely didn’t try to call in sick today after agreeing to this shift because in hindsight, trying to work while his mental health is in this state is probably not a good idea.

“...right.” Hen crosses her arms and Buck tries to smile back at her, because that’s normal behaviour by a totally normal person, startling as Eddie appears at the top of the stairs.

“Eddie!” he squeaks. Eddie raises an eyebrow, finishing tucking his shirt into his pants.

“Buck,” Eddie responds, raising an eyebrow. “Good morning.”

“Yep, good morning to you, um. Yep.” Buck knows he’s acting like a crackhead, and probably looks like it too, but honestly god fucking damnit his whole life feels like it’s falling apart and he has no idea how to even begin to fix it.

“Y’alright there Buck?” Eddie asks, heading for the coffee machine.

“Yeah, Buck, are you sure? If you weren’t alright you should’ve said no, I could’ve found someone else to come in and cover this shift,” Bobby says, squeezing Buck’s shoulder.

“Um,” Buck starts, at a loss as to how to even begin the conversation.

_So, my cleaner saw a pile of letters in a box I forgot to put away that I had stupidly addressed and put stamps on and decided to be a good Samaritan and post them for me, without knowing that they were love letters I wrote during some extremely pathetic periods of my life to various people across the country and now I am praying the US Postal System is as shit as everyone says, and both Eddie and my ex Shaun don’t receive the letters I wrote because I’m not sure if I will ever recover from the A) shame, B) humiliation and C) complete and utter devastation to my life that will cause._

All of that, that right there, just sounds so cuckoo bananas that he laughs out of nowhere, making them all jump.

“Are you having a mental breakdown?” Chim asks from behind him. Buck looks over his shoulder and he probably is but if he admits that they’ll kick him back to sick leave and that is definitely not where he needs to be. He doesn’t need to be here right now, but he’ll be fine, he just needs to find his cleaning cupboard to cry in for a bit and come to some sort of acceptance of what is happening and then it’ll be fine. Definitely.

“Nope. Just some personal stuff but, y’know, let’s fight some fires and save some lives today!” Buck says, clapping his hands together and smiling. He can feel his eyes begin to water.

Crying in the middle of the firehouse when he hasn’t had to witness anyone die or call him an asshole is not something that he can explain away, so he does the next best thing.

“Gonna clean the rig,” he says, and guns it for the stairs, leaving them in his dust.

Hen and Chim walk to Bobby and hold out their hands, closed fists on palms.

“Loser goes to find out whatever the hell that was,” Bobby says. Hen and Chim nod grimly. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighing loudly, but puts down his breakfast and walks over, holding up his hands.

Eddie always goes rock and everyone knows it, so he’s dispatched downstairs within thirty seconds. “Gotta stop using rock,” he mutters to himself, finding Buck quickly, who is not cleaning the rig at all, but sitting in the back of the EMT truck, staring down at a crumpled piece of paper like it holds the answers to the universe.

“Buck, what the hell is going on?” he asks, and Buck yelps, almost falling back into the truck.

“N-nothing,” Buck stammers, because how dare Eddie lose rock-paper-scissors so quickly like that. He figured he at least had a good few minutes headstart before one of them appeared.

“You’ve been acting like you’re on drugs all morning. Now, tell me what’s going on so we can fix it,” Eddie says, shuffling him over and sitting down as well.

Buck groans and falls backward to lie on the floor of the truck, but hands over the crumpled paper. “My life is over, might as well just accept it,” Buck says, closing his eyes to await the reckoning.

“This is to your address… to Abby?” Eddie asks, sounding bemused.

Buck stays silent, and listens to Eddie rip open the letter and read.

The space gets weird between them, and Buck knows he just got to the line where Buck tells Abby he loves the smell of her shampoo, and how the sunlight catches her in the morning and makes her look like an angel, and it’s all just _beyond_ humiliating.

“Buck, is this a… a love letter, or something?” Eddie asks. Buck nods, his arm over his eyes. It’ll be easier to explain this utter fuckery if he’s not actively looking at Eddie.

“When I’m in love with someone, I write a letter. And I put everything in the letter that I have trouble saying, or that I’m not able to tell them because like, they’re with someone else or we broke up and I’m a loser who still loves them. Y’know, completely hypothetical.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says after a few beats, and Buck groans.

“I have a box of letters in my house, and I got drunk last week and was looking through them because I’m not pathetic enough as it is… and I forgot to put the box away. And my cleaner, god bless Delores, decided to be a peach and _post them all for me._ Because I’m Evan fucking Buckley and this is my life, apparently.”

Buck can feel the tears again, springing hot and unwanted at the corners of his eyes. His bottom lip is definitely going. The shame feels worse than anything else.

“I’m guessing there’s some letters in there that you don’t want people to get,” Eddie finally says, and Buck has never loved him more.

“Yeah,” he eaks out.

“Is… uh, is there a letter for me?” Eddie asks. Buck lets out a great, shuddering sigh.

“Yeah. And I’d really appreciate it if you don’t read it if you get it. It’s a navy blue envelope.” Buck remembers he’d picked out the stationary because it was the exact same as their uniforms. He’d written the letter after the tsunami, after his feelings threatened to drown him, and between Christopher and Eddie and Carla and Maddie and the crew, he'd slowly gotten his footing again, started treading water and hid everything back where it needed to be. Or so he thought.

“Navy, huh,” Eddie says, sounding thoughtful. “I tossed my mail on the counter this morning. I’m pretty sure there was a navy envelope in there.”

“Mm, probably. But y’know, I’m totally over my crush on you so it’s fine, we’re the best friends ever and I love that for us, y’know.” Buck’s voice wavers and he lets the tears fall under his arm, because as humiliating as it is for Eddie to get a letter, there’s _worse_.

“O...kay. I can’t really tell if you’re upset about that, or something else,” Eddie says.

“Something else. I mean, I’m upset about that but like. Oh, god. It’s so much worse.” Buck struggles up, sniffling, and wipes his eyes.

“Jesus, Buck, what’s going on?” Eddie says, the letter falling from his hands.

“I wrote one to my ex, Shaun, after we broke up. I was really upset and I needed to get my feelings out. So I wrote this letter, and it was a bad one. Like, begging and pleading him to come back to me and I’d overlook the horrible shit he did, and just some really-- just-- _god_. He lives out of the state so I can’t drive over there and steal it out of his letter box, so I have one of two options. Hope the Postal Service loses the letter, or go into Witness Protection and become Bevan Duckley.”

Eddie snorts at that, unable to help it, before composing himself.

“Did he-- was he violent?” Eddie asks, hedging as he goes, as if he can’t really stand to hear it if he was. There will be punching involved. Buck rolls his eyes.

“No. He was just a massive fucking douche. I spent years wasting my breath on that asshole and he was the one who told me I’d be a shit firefighter. I applied to prove to him I was something, y’know? And I’ve come so far since that shit scared teenager and the fact he thinks I’m still that person is just the _worst_. Plus I’m kind of scared he’s going to come back and be like, _cheating on you was a mistake, take me back_ and _oh hey, you’re actually as pathetic as I thought you were let’s get back together now I know where you are_.”

Eddie grabs Buck’s shoulders at that, and shakes him.

“Buck, you are a lot of things, but pathetic is not one of them. So stop with that shit, okay?”

Buck looks up finally, eyes red, still sniffling. Eddie’s face is set, in that Eddie way he gets that Buck definitely talks about in the letter how hot it is, but all he can see now is that Eddie’s mad because Buck’s upset and that’s all that matters.

“Thanks Eddie,” Buck says softly, and looks back down at his lap.

“Look, if… if Shaun turns up, we’ll figure it out, okay? It’s not gonna be as bad as you think.” Eddie hands back the letter, and Buck shakes his head.

“It absolutely will be exactly as bad as I think it’ll be.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Buck…”

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend if he shows up. Okay? Like, I know it’s weird and probably definitely something you don’t want to do, but I _cannot_ get through this by my weird and single self because I’m weak, and Shaun is way too hot for his own good, and I’ll end up falling into bed with him and then I’ll disappear for a week and you’ll come find my fucked out body under the bed and have to give me an IV while Hen lectures me on STI’s and we both know I’m never coming back from that.” Eddie’s eyes are wide, and Buck’s grabbing him this time, shaking him as he gets more and more worked up.

“That’s a lot right there, Buck.” Eddie says slowly.

Buck nods and pulls back, shoving the letter into his pocket.

“If he sees you, he’ll get really intimidated and probably not believe me at first because let’s be real, you’re a 10 and I’m a 6 on a good day if I’m hydrated and haven’t eaten bread for three days, but it’s better than nothing.” Buck hops down from the truck, somewhat invigorated.

“You’re fishing for compliments. You know you’re a 10. And I think this is really dumb and we’re definitely going to talk about it later, but if pretending to be your boyfriend to get past your shitty ex is what you need, then… okay.”

Buck grins and holds his hand out for a high five, which Eddie laughs but gives him.

“Do we need to talk about my letter?” he asks. Buck shakes his head.

“I mean, I don’t want you to read it because of a whole bunch of reasons, so please burn it, or at least give it back to me. I think that we’re good as friends and it’s humiliating you know I had a crush on you but ya know, I’ve done dumber shit with you so I feel like I can recover from that, to a certain extent.”

Eddie hugs him, squeezing him tight.

“I’m sorry you didn’t say something at the time,” is all he says, before the sirens go off and people start rushing the garage, scrambling for their turnout gear. Buck and Eddie break apart and join their crew, ready to take on another day.

*

It takes three days. Shaun could never resist Buck, especially one that sounded as pathetic as he did, and Buck is actually polishing the rig like he said he was going to do during his mental breakdown, while Chim and Hen take inventory on their truck and Eddie sits on the top of the rig, legs kicking as he eats a sandwich and tells Buck the spots he’s missing.

“You’re supposed to be _helping_ , Diaz, not being an absolute dick,” Buck snaps up at him, ducking a piece of bologna that falls right at his head.

“Buck, visitor!” Jackson calls from the doorway, and Buck looks over and-- _oh good god no_.

Standing there is Shaun, holding a jacket and squinting into the firehouse. He looks the same, a little thicker maybe, a little older, but still the same. Tall, broad shouldered, short brown hair, stubble, and asshole written all over him, left right and sideways.

Buck drops his shine rag and starts smoothing his pants and shirt, because Shaun looks even better than Buck remembers, and this is definitely not how his Wednesday is supposed to be going.

“Buck?” Eddie asks, but he sounds like he’s a million miles away and Buck moves towards Shaun, his mouth a desert, his legs operating on muscle memory alone.

“Evan?” Shaun says, and Buck nods. Of course. Shaun hated calling him Buck, insisted on Evan-- they were barely out of their teens and Shaun was already so good at making him feel stupid and small about everything he liked.

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Buck asks instead, because it’s safer than admitting he knows exactly why Shaun is here and how sad it is. He is happy Shaun’s wasted money on a plane trip or a car or whatever the hell he did to get here.

Shaun holds up the letter, plain white. Buck can see his name, written so shakily, remembers being furious and upset and out of control when he was writing it.

“Ah.”

“I’m guessing you want to explain this?” Shaun continues, and Buck shakes his head.

“It was an accident. I wrote it years ago, never meant to send it. My cleaner found it and--”

“Oh, come on Evan,” Shaun scoffs. “We both know that’s not true. You’ve never gotten over me. Never should’ve let me go. It says it all here.” He waves the letter around, as if that’s supposed to remind Buck of the words he has burned into his brains. He knows exactly what’s in there, how he felt when he wrote each word, and how much he meant them all at the time.

“I’m serious, Shaun. It’s an old letter, it was a mistake. I’m-- that’s not me anymore.”

“Is there a problem here?” Buck hears Eddie say from behind, somewhere, and Buck can’t bring himself to look over. It’s so much worse than Buck thought it’d be, and he has a very convincing and overactive imagination.

“This is Shaun,” is all Buck can say.

Eddie, god bless him, remembers the boyfriend blood oath Buck made him swear in the truck, and slings an arm around Buck’s shoulders.

“Ah, Shaun. I’m Eddie.”

The testosterone rolling off Eddie right now would normally be enough to make Buck laugh and tell him to calm his farm, but it’s the only thing keeping Buck from falling apart, so he stays silent and lets Eddie communicate all that needs to be said… without being said.

Shaun blinks twice, and looks at Buck.

“Seriously? I’m pretty sure workplace relationships are illegal or something,” he says. Neither Buck nor Eddie respond.

Eddie’s hand moves from Buck’s shoulders to his waist, and he pulls Buck closer. What little breath Buck has left leaves him, because he was _a huge fucking liar_ \-- everything he said to Eddie was fake, phony, 110% a lie, because the day Buck is over Eddie and not stupidly in love with him is the day Buck’s dead, so.

Shaun shakes his head, and waggles the letter at Buck.

“I’ll see you later. We need to talk.” And with that, turns and walks off, leaving Buck having a mild panic attack as Eddie holds his waist.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, once Shaun is out of earshot.

Before Buck can respond, Chim and Hen pop up, and Hen starts gesturing to what’s happening in front of her. “Finally?” she asks, and Chim reaches for his wallet.

“No--” Buck starts, waving his hands, and Eddie rolls his eyes and finally lets go. He doesn’t step away though, and Buck sways a little into him, needing to feel something right now. He feels cold all over, clammy, and sweaty, and Eddie is helping to balance him out a little.

“Buck’s ex. Couldn’t take a hint. Sounds like he still can’t,” Eddie says by way of explanation, and Chim puts his wallet back, looking more disappointed than he should for someone who just saved himself fifty bucks.

“I am going to be ambushed every day until he leaves and I am so screwed,” Buck says to Eddie.

“What the hell is going on?” Hen asks, and Buck throws up his hands.

“You tell them. Me and my cleaning cupboard have an appointment and I’m overdue two weeks.” And Buck walks off, heading towards the stairs, leaving Eddie to deal with the mess.

*

As expected, Shaun starts appearing whenever Buck decides it’s safe to venture out, mostly in tow behind Eddie and Christopher because he’s a coward and he remembers Shaun more than he’d like to admit.

There’s a farmer’s market near the firehouse and Eddie goes there every weekend to get supplies-- fruit for Christopher, vegetables for meals he knows he won’t butcher, and Buck usually adds a few things that he’ll cook in batches for them. Buck’s started going more often than not anyway, so it’s not a break from schedule, and he smiles as Chris goes to one of the farmers who has chickens and fresh eggs, obsessed with them clucking away in their pen. Eddie stops to buy a dozen eggs and Buck notices Shaun a few stalls down. He hasn’t spotted Buck yet, and he’s with someone Buck doesn’t recognise.

“Oh shit,” Buck whispers, grabbing at Eddie’s arm. Eddie looks over to where Buck’s locked into and sighs.

“It’s fine, Buck, he’s not gonna start shit in such a public place. Let’s go,” Eddie says, pocketing his wallet and giving Buck the eggs. He grabs Buck’s hand and tells Christopher they’re going to the fruit stalls next, and he gets to pick his fruit for the week.

“Yay!” Christopher yells, even though they both know he’s picking grapes because he loves them frozen, and jets off down the walkway, a few feet ahead of them.

“Just be calm,” Eddie soothes, squeezing Buck’s hand as they get closer and Shaun looks up, noticing him.

“Evan?” he asks, and Buck makes a face.

“Stalking me now? Nice,” he snarks. Shaun is taken aback.

“W-what? No, my friend works at this market. You’re stalking me!”

Buck rolls his eyes and lets Eddie drag him past Shaun, giving him an eyeful of their hands linked, and Buck catches up, breathing hard.

“Real mature,” Eddie says once they’re out of earshot, and Buck snorts.

“It was the best I could come up with at short notice,” he whines.

Eddie drops his hand only when he goes to pay for the fruit, after Christopher spends a good five minutes debating with Buck over the merits of grapes versus green apples, and Buck tries not to feel bereft without it.

*

Eddie’s a _Fast and Furious_ fanboy, and while Buck could take it or leave it, he doesn’t say no when Eddie asks him to come see the movie.

“Chris is with Abuela and I’ve been wanting to see it for ages,” Eddie all but begs. Buck could make a huge show out of it, but he does like seeing shit blow up, and Vin Diesel is _jacked_. Besides, it makes him feel good that Eddie wants to take him. Totally doesn’t have anything to do with the fact he’s got no other friends here besides Lena, as far as Buck knows, and the rest of the team openly make fun of Eddie for enjoying such “trash”.

“Sure,” he says with a smile. He more than owes Eddie right now, considering the ridiculousness of his life and his letters.

The twins, god bless them, returned the letters unopened. _This was probably a mistake, we think. Hope you’re well, Buck_ \-- was on the Post-It inside the main envelope.

So, here Buck is, standing in line for the tickets while Eddie scopes out the candy bar, and Shaun is walking past with the same friend, in heated discussion. He stops suddenly when he spots Buck, who starts shooting Eddie’s back desperate glances, in the hopes he feels the pure panic and comes to save Buck. But of course, Eddie’s been sucked into the candy display and is tossing up the merits of Junior Mints versus M&Ms-- come on Eddie, M&Ms all day, who the fuck eats Junior Mints, if he wanted to taste toothpaste he’d eat it-- and Buck’s pleas are ignored.

“Buck, are you going to let me talk to you at any point while I’m here?” Shaun asks, as Buck hands over his card to pay for the tickets.

“Nothing to discuss. The letter was a mistake. Let it go,” Buck says, putting his card back in his wallet and after grabbing the tickets from the confused cashier smiles widely in Eddie’s direction.

“Buck, c’mon--” Shaun starts, but Buck shoves past him and resolutely doesn’t look back. He gets to Eddie’s side and holds his hand, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Instead of jolting back, like Buck’s expecting, Eddie just smiles at him.

“Shaun’s behind us,” Buck hisses between clenched teeth in a smile, and leans over to grab the Peanut M&M’s. “Also, M&M’s over Junior Mints any day of the week.”

Eddie laughs and grabs his own pack, because what’s sharing, apparently.

Buck doesn’t think about how Eddie didn’t react until well into the movie, when Vin Diesel is fighting with John Cena who is supposed to be his brother-- like, in what universe is it convincing that they’re related-- and it hits him. Eddie didn’t jerk back, didn’t freak, didn’t even _flinch_. He just smiled, looking like Buck was all that and a bag of chips. He must’ve seen Shaun earlier, which-- dick move, leaving Buck to suffer like that. He shrugs and steals a couple of Eddie’s M&M’s, having polished off his own bag already. Eddie doesn’t even slap his hand away. Come to think of it, Eddie hasn’t yelled at him or beat him up for stealing food for a while now. That’s some interpersonal development right there, Buck thinks happily.

*

Shaun tries twice more at the firehouse, both times catching Buck at the doors.

The first time Buck glares at him and runs back inside, which is really not grown up in any capacity, and Chim definitely calls him three variations of a coward, because if anyone showed up at the firehouse looking _that_ good and wanting to make peace or something, Chim would be all there.

“Yeah, I bet! I’ll let Tatiana know!” Buck snaps back. Chim rolls his eyes and flips Buck the bird, while Hen leans on the stairs, a newspaper in hand.

“You’re going to have to face him someday,” she says.

“And today is that not that day!” Buck exclaims, speed walking towards the lockers.

The second time Shaun appears, he’s starting to look stressed the hell out and Buck almost falters-- maybe he does want to make peace, considering how many times he’s tried to make contact now.

However, Eddie has other ideas, and grabs Buck and hauls him in for a mindblowing kiss, shoving him up against the rig. Hen and Chim and a few of the others start wolf whistling, and he can dimly hear Bobby telling them to take it outside, or to the toilets, or anywhere else besides up against his beautiful rig, but Buck isn’t able to do much of anything when Eddie pulls back. He looks over his shoulder, all jealous heat, and Shaun shakes his head and walks off, throwing his hands up.

“Um,” Buck says, as Eddie brings his hand up to thumb away the spit that’s gathered at the corner of Buck’s mouth.

“Hopefully he gets the picture now,” Eddie says, breathing hard. Buck nods, and tries his best not to reach out for Eddie as he pulls away, tucking his shirt back in because apparently Buck got handsy and tried to pull his shirt off. Hen and Chim sip their coffees and stare at Buck, as he sorts himself out.

“Not a word,” Buck hisses.

“I’m telling Maddie,” Chim says.

“Nu uh! If she finds out about this hot mess, I am never covering another shift for you ever again, Chim!”

*

The last place Shaun tries is the Baskin Robbins around the corner, of all places, because the one thing he apparently remembers about Buck is how much of a bitch he is for sugar.

He’s getting takeaway containers for the crew-- plain vanilla for their boring Captain, Peanut Butter ‘n Chocolate for Hen, Very Berry Strawberry for him and Chim, and Rocky Road for Eddie-- and as he’s paying the server and heading outside with his carry bag, Shaun’s there with his own ice cream.

“Okay, this is stalking now Shaun, what the fuck,” Buck snaps, his face going red.

Shaun scrubs at his hair with his free hand, frustration evident. “You keep dogging me, and I just want to talk, Evan.”

Buck scoffs. “There’s nothing to talk about! I’m with Eddie, as you have seen a _lot_ of, and for the fiftieth time it was a mistake! Just leave me alone!”

He gets back to the station feeling pissed, and dumps the ice cream on the counter, taking his own to the roof to sit until he hears the bell.

Eddie comes up after a few minutes, shovelling ice cream into his mouth as if he’ll be able to finish it before their next call.

“You’re gonna get sick doing that,” Buck says, looking over his shoulder.

“I’ve got a stomach made of steel,” Eddie says thickly, almost spraying Buck with it, and he laughs, despite how shitty he feels.

“How come you’re sitting up on the roof like a saddo?” Eddie asks, sitting down next to him.

“Shaun was at BK’s, man. He’s being really insistent. Maybe… maybe I should talk to him, hear him out? He’s making a lot of effort to try and talk to me.”

Eddie shrugs. “Guy’s a dick, you don’t owe him anything. You explained it was a mistake and that you’re with someone else now, not your fault he won’t take a hint and leave.”

Buck feels like that’s really not the end of the story, but he eats his strawberry ice cream instead, staring at the sun going down with Eddie by his side.

*

Bobby asks if he needs a restraining order, or a hose for the next time Eddie decides to assist-- as last time Shaun turned up, Eddie kissed him to within an inch of his life, and Buck has never popped a boner faster. Single greatest moment of his life so far, after being accepted into the LAFD, of course…

“N-no, Cap. I’m pretty sure he’ll leave tomorrow.” Buck’s beet red and Eddie’s downstairs working out with Chim, which he’s really happy about, because his body remembers the touch and feel of Eddie every time he sees or thinks about him now, and Buck’s not sure his heart or his workpants can handle this going on much longer.

“Mmmhmm,” is all Bobby says, giving him a look that calls bullshit _so loudly_ that Buck would be offended if he wasn’t already fantasising about their kiss as he soaps up the lunch dishes.

Buck gets home late from his shift, and has showered and changed when there’s a knock on his door. He groans and walks back downstairs, expecting one of the team on the other side, but it’s Shaun.

“How the hell do you know where I live?” is all Buck can manage to say. Shaun rolls his eyes.

“You put your address on the back of the letter,” he says, and waves it in Buck’s face. Buck snatches it from him and peers at it-- sure enough, it’s got his new address. Which is beyond ridiculous considering he wrote the letter years ago, which means he got drunk and re-did the envelope at some point, which is _so utterly soulcrushingly pathetic_ that Buck wants to vomit.

“Can I come in? Look, I know you’re-- I just want to talk, okay. Hear me out.”

Buck glares, but he can’t escape this forever, so he steps aside begrudgingly.

“Eddie knows jiu jitsu,” he lies as a threat, as Shaun walks into the kitchen. Shaun snorts.

“I don’t doubt it. That guy looks like he knows fifty ways to kill a human.”

Buck preens a little, because yes Eddie does. And he probably does know some sort of martial art-- Buck files that away to ask later.

“So, speak. You’ve got five minutes.” Buck leans against his counter, arms crossed, hoping his pissed off face is serving him enough intimidation to hide the shame he feels.

“I know you wrote this letter a long time ago. I can tell… it’s just after I left. You talk about stuff I forgot about, and I know you’ve probably forgotten it too, and I… I want to apologise.”

Buck’s jaw drops, because that is definitely not what he expected.

“Excuse me?”

Shaun shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and sighs. “I lasted all of two months with James. It was just sex and I was stupid. Still am, probably. But I never forgot you, Evan. I never forgot how bad I was to you, how much I screwed you up-- how screwed up I was during that period. And you never stopped loving me. It was scary how much you still loved me, even though I was a horrible person to you. That’s because you’re such a good person.”

Buck can feel the tears starting, because of course he can-- every time anyone says anything mean or super nice he bawls like a baby, and he looks at the ceiling instead because he can’t cry in front of Shaun.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry I broke you so badly, and I also wanted to say thank you for… loving me, when I didn’t deserve it. And I wanted to do it in person, because I knew if I sent a letter you’d probably just burn it, or throw it in the trash, and I think we both know you needed to hear it.”

Shaun doesn’t try to come any closer, doesn’t say anything as Buck wipes the tears from his eyes and finally looks at him.

“I appreciate that,” he manages to get out, nodding. Shaun smiles and nods back.

“I’d like to keep the letter, if that’s okay. To remind myself that one day, someone thought I was worth loving.”

That almost breaks him, almost makes him crumple and fall into a heap, but he holds out his hand, the letter shaking, and lets Shaun take it.

“I’m glad you’re in a good place, Evan. Eddie seems like a great guy. You deserve all the love in the world.”

Shaun takes his leave after that, leaving Buck in his loft, as he sinks to the ground, back against the cabinets. He doesn’t scream, or howl, or beat the floor with his fists like he did when Shaun left last time. It’s not heartbreak he’s crying over, exactly, but maybe more because of the acknowledgement of what could have been-- at a different time, in a different life. It feels a lot like heartbreak, though.

There’s another knock at the door and Buck doesn’t have the strength in his body to get up, and watches as the door opens and Eddie peaks in.

“Jesus Christ, Buck, what’s--” Eddie exclaims, rushing inside and coming to Buck, hands roaming as he searches for an injury.

“‘m fine,” Buck mumbled, sniffling. Eddie scoffs a laugh.

“You’re crying on your kitchen floor, Buck, you are not fine.”

Buck wipes at his eyes with his sleeve, sniffling again, and sighs. “Shaun came over to apologise. Apparently that’s all he’s wanted to do, the whole time he’s been here, but I never gave him a chance. I’m not sure what to do with that,” he says. Eddie sits back, concern written all over his face, but he lets Buck talk because he’s Eddie and he’s amazing.

Buck tells Eddie about their relationship, how wrong it went at the end, and all Shaun said standing there moments before, until his voice cracks and he can’t talk anymore.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says and Buck nods.

“Yeah. Some high fucking drama up in here.” He tries to laugh but it hurts too much, so he just cries a bit more. That seems easier.

“I, um. I know you told me not to… but I read it,” Eddie says after a few soft moments, and Buck squeezes his eyes shut.

“Eddie…”

“Look, I needed to know, okay. I know you said you’re over me but I just, I needed to know. I needed to know how much you loved me at one point. What we could have been,” Eddie says, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the letter. It looks still brand new, as if he had plucked it from Buck’s shaving case, perfect and uncrinkled. Like his feelings, although now he feels like the dirt crushed at the bottom of a trash can or something.

“What we could have been?” Buck asks, because _what_.

Eddie clears his throat, looking down at the letter, and starts to read.

_We had a call today, a bad one. Involving kids. Because when don’t the bad ones involve them, right?. You were carrying the twins from their bedrooms onto the ladder, while I was clearing downstairs, trying to find their cat. I remember getting outside, holding the freakin' thing, and watching you descend from the ladder with the kids all over you, like some sort of angel. The sun hit you just right and I felt all the breath leave my body with how much I loved you in that moment. Like I was going to fall apart and fall back together just in those seconds. I stood there like an absolute idiot just watching you do your job, and once you handed the kids off to their parents and Chim, you came over to me, scratched the cat on the head and asked if I wanted to go to Taco Bell to reward me for my hard work getting the cat. You are such a douchebag, Eddie Diaz, but I should've kissed you until I died in that moment. I wish I had. You were gorgeous, and strong, and my everything._

Buck remembers writing the words, still smelling faintly of wood and smoke, sitting at his counter, feeling the words flow out of him like poetry. Eddie looks like he’s been punched in the face, completely rocked as he read, but he doesn’t stumble over the words, which means he’s read them at least a few times before.

“Buck, this is… this is a lot,” Eddie says, looking up from the letter. Buck shrugs.

“It’s how I felt at the time,” he says.

“And… now?” Eddie asks, and it makes Buck stop from immediately denying everything because it sounds something like hope.

“Eddie, c’mon man,” Buck starts. Eddie moves closer and reads more.

_I tucked Chris in tonight, and we watched a Hell’s Kitchen marathon and ate M &Ms until my stomach felt like it was going to burst. But it was the best night I’ve had all year. Chris is the best kid ever, and I would do anything for him. We laughed over the shitty owners and talked about work that day, about Bobby’s secret ingredients in his spaghetti sauce that hasn’t been a secret longer than it was, and Chris’ excursion to the aquarium later that week and we tossed a coin over who went as chaperone. The fact you even let me do things like that with you means more to me than you will ever know. I didn’t have any of this growing up, and have no idea what a good parent is supposed to look like. You make me want to be the best every day, and it’s all because you are the best, every single day._

“God, I’m such a sap,” Buck jokes, because what else is he supposed to do, sitting there shaking, listening to how much he fucking loves Eddie laid out like that?

Eddie shakes his head, his face unreadable.

“How could you write all this about me, and ask me not to read it? This is the most--”

“I asked you not to read it because how the hell are we supposed to go back to being friends, after you know that’s how I felt about you?” Buck asks, and Eddie looks furious.

“Felt, or still feel? Be honest, Buck,” he demands. Buck throws his hands up.

“Of course I still feel that way, Eddie, as if I can turn that off!” he exclaims.

Eddie surges forward, on his knees, pressing against Buck’s thigh, his hands coming up to bracket Buck’s face and leaning in to kiss him.

It feels like time stops, because Buck’s been fantasising about this moment for so long he’s not sure if he’s dreaming or not. He grabs at Eddie’s shirt, holding him close, and letting Eddie lead.

“Buck, normal friends don’t go to the lengths that I went to. I’ve been wanting to do this for months,” Eddie says, breathless, his eyes roaming all over Buck’s face, and Buck nods.

“Uh huh, kiss me more please,” he says, pulling Eddie back in as he laughs.

They stumble up the loft to Buck’s bed, Eddie pushing Buck down and climbing on top, pulling his shirt off as he goes.

“Jesus, I am not going to survive this,” Buck gasps as Eddie sucks on his neck, grinding down against him.

“Me neither. You’re so fucking hot,” Eddie says, licking into Buck’s mouth and kissing him deep, working on Buck’s pants and pulling his shirt up. Buck wants to get his mouth on Eddie’s dick, but Eddie has other ideas, grabbing for the very conspicuous moisturiser Buck keeps by his bed and squirting some in his hand.

“Not gonna last, been wanting this too long,” Eddie explains, as he takes them both in hand and resumes kissing him, thrusting against Buck.

Buck traces his hands along Eddie’s sides, letting Eddie kiss him deep and lush, holding on for dear life as Eddie works them. If he comes first it’ll be inexcusable, but it feels so good and having Eddie heavy and warm on top of him makes his brain cut short.

Eddie’s got a wrist roll going, grip tight and as he kisses Buck over and over, muttering things in Spanish that Buck knows are absolutely filthy.

“No puedo creer que pueda estar contigo, eres tan hermoso,” Eddie gasps out, moving from Buck’s lips back to his neck.

“No Spanish, that’s cheating.”

Eddie looks up, eyes glazed, but smiles. “What’re you gonna do about it?” he asks. Buck almost blanks out. Eddie is doing this thing with his wrist, twisting them just right, and Buck’s hips are snapping against Eddie’s, his leg hitching to give Eddie more access, wanting to touch more, be closer.

“Eddie,” Buck begs, and Eddie kisses him again, dropping down so their chests touch, and Buck grabs at Eddie’s lower back. “More.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “So impatient,” but starts stroking harder, kissing more.

Buck comes an embarrassingly short time later, but Eddie follows him over almost immediately, rolling off with a _whump_ and lying almost on top of him, breathing hard.

“Holy shit,” Buck gets out. Eddie nods, closing his eyes, patting Buck’s arm.

“You’re putting in all the work next time,” Eddie says. Buck grins, looking over at him.

“There’s gonna be a next time, ey?” he asks. Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“What, you think I read your love letter, come over for some awesome sex and then we go back to being bros tomorrow?”

Buck shrugs. “I’m not going to assume anything.”

“Buck. Seriously.” Eddie looks annoyed, and Buck sighs.

“Eddie, I don’t want you to just be like, _oh, Buck loves me, I feel obliged_ or whatever _._ ”

“Buck, you are an idiot. I came over because I read your letter and realised you felt the same way I did. That I have felt for a long time. Do you understand?” Eddie says, leaning in close, his hand coming to rest on Buck’s chest.

It’s all the endorphins or something, because Buck feels his eyes water again, and he tries very hard not to cry.

“Yeah, I understand. Love you too, Eds,” he rasps.

“Chris is gonna be so happy. He’s been asking to call you Buck Dad for most of the year,” Eddie says, grabbing for a shirt on the floor and wiping off his hands and starting on Buck’s chest.

“Oh,” Buck says, in a horribly small voice. Eddie smiles and leans down, kissing him.

“We’ll take it slow, okay, I know you’re kind of still--”

“Nope, I’ll move in tomorrow and start the drop offs, bring it,” Buck interrupts, and Eddie laughs, his eyes crinkling, so beautiful.

“Alright, if you say so.”

He settles down, yawning, and pulls Buck in close.

“Chris is at Abuela’s so I’m staying here tonight. You can make breakfast tomorrow,” he says, and Buck nods, wondering when the fuck he got so lucky. It’s been a very weird week, and one he’d like to never have to relive, but it’s led to Eddie being in his bed, so all in all his stupid letters ended up working out. And they’re definitely having pancakes tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> on brand at twitter, naomicovinsky @ tumblr -- come say hi!


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